Essential
by Kuroeia
Summary: Keith comforts his friend at the end. (Fill for voltron kink on DW, prompt "fatal injury, comforting a dying friend." Major character death. Gen.)


**Essential**

Keith knew it was the end in the moment it happened. A flash of red and rich purple, Pidge's gasp, the barely audible keening of the Green Lion on the frequency that belonged to Voltron alone.

"Pidge," Shiro moaned, knowing, but he wasn't anywhere in the vicinity.

No one was, except for Keith.

"Hang on, Pidge," Keith said, "I'm coming."

Pidge said nothing, only made a voiceless sound that Keith knew to be the stifled groan of the mortally wounded. How did he know that? How did he know anything beyond what he ought to know, son of Earth and Galra blood?

The Green Lion lay splayed against the iron side of an asteroid, limbs twitching in agony as it fought to deal with the blow that had been dealt to it. It couldn't. It knew, but it still fought, forging its way through the impossible, as it always did. As its pilot always did.

When Keith flew across the void between their lions and lay a hand on its muzzle, the Green Lion opened its jaw, weakly, to let him in.

"Pidge," he called. "Pidge!"

"I'm... here," Pidge wheezed, unable to draw a full breath, their ribcage crushed by the force of gravity they had been subjected to.

The lions were not equipped with advanced medical anything, and the Castle of Lions was out of reach. There was nothing here to use, no way to deflect this awful turn of fate to the better.

Keith ran up the Green Lion's tongue-ramp to the cockpit, which was still pressurized, at least. Small blessings. Very small.

"Pidge," he gasped.

An armoured hand reached up from the pilot's seat, searching. Keith took it in a tight grip, drifting around to the front so he could see. Pidge looked like a rag doll, pale and tattered, already half-embraced by the grey shadow of death.

"Hey," he said, "hang on, you're gonna be okay."

"I..." Pidge choked, "I don't think so. Not this time."

"Don't talk like that," Keith chided, his heart drumming high and terrified in his chest. "You're gonna be okay. We're always okay. You're not-"

"I'm scared," Pidge cut in, tremulous. "I've never... found any evidence about what comes after. I don't think... don't think _anything_ comes after. It's just nothing. I'm... scared."

Keith squeezed his way into the pilot seat alongside Pidge, pulling their head into his shoulder, careful to avoid their shattered midsection. "Don't be scared," he said. "The lions are powered by Altean souls, right? You're not Altean, but maybe-"

"It doesn't... work like that," Pidge interrupted, wheezing. "Altean souls are like... energetic... magnets. They draw it in from their surroundings and turn it into something useful. Human... souls... are much more basic. We're... we're not reservoirs, or even catalysts. We're just conduits, at best."

"This is why we need you," Keith whispered. "More than anyone, you understand. I'm literally half alien, but I don't understand alien minds half as well as you do. Come on. Hang in there."

Pidge gasped out half of a laugh. "Math... is universal."

"I think Lance would probably roll his eyes and call you a nerd right about now," Keith said.

"Yeah, and Hunk would nod in sage agreement, and Shiro..." Pidge coughed, mouth suddenly full of blood. "Shiro would call me a genius."

Pidge's head dropped awkwardly onto Keith's shoulder. Keith curled his arms around them, cradling their head against him.

He wasn't very good at affection, or emotions in general. Consequence of growing up in a shed in the desert, he figured. Consequence of growing up as the child of an alien and the man who had fallen in love with her. Consequences of choices he hadn't made.

"Yeah," Keith murmured, clutching Pidge tighter against him, wishing he had some way to convey what it was he felt. The green lion was an arm of Voltron, just as he was, and he'd always felt some special bond with Pidge as a result, but he didn't know how to explain that to them. "Yeah. You're not alone, okay?"

A sound came out of Pidge that was mostly sob, if a little laugh. "Thanks, Keith," Pidge whispered. "I'm glad you're here."

"Can..." Keith started, then had to stop and swallow the lump in his throat. "Can I do anything?"

Pidge blew out a pained breath, and Keith got the impression they would have shrugged if they could have. "Not... really. Just don't... don't leave."

"I'm not going anywhere," Keith promised. "I'm right here. You're okay."

"No, I'm not," Pidge groaned.

"You're going to _be_ okay," Keith said forcefully.

Pidge grinned, though the edges of it trembled badly. "No," they said gently, "I'm not."

Keith hadn't cried in a very long time. Years. Maybe a decade, at this point. Not since his father had passed away and left him alone in the desert with the wind and the empty sky. Not since the last time he'd cared this much about anyone.

The tears were hot and uncomfortable on his face. He wiped them off with a sleeve, but more came down moments later, and he gave up.

"Come on, Pidge," he said unsteadily. "You can't die. We need you."

Pidge met his eyes, and smiled with their own, though their mouth was set in a grimace. "You'll... find someone... else. The Green Lion... will find someone. You'll be fine."

"No, we won't!" Keith burst out suddenly. "The lion might find someone else with a brain like yours, but it won't find _you_. You're not... you're not expendable, okay? We need _you_ , not just a pilot for the green lion. We can't be the team we are without you."

Pidge beamed at him, suddenly, a body of light in his arms, weighing nothing. "All I ever wanted was to have a team," they said, looking as happy as he'd ever seen them.

And the light in their eyes went out.

 **X**


End file.
